Bedannibal-Next
by enprison
Summary: Bedelia Du Maurier and Hannibal Lecter try to keeo their relationship as...lets say 'professional' as possible Please critique :) it would really help me thanks love ya
1. Chapter 1

"Promise," hannibal Lecter continued to Miss Du Maurier, "It wasn't your fault. Don't blame yourself." he finished, after having the time before Bedelia Du Maurier's retirement brought up.

"I Don't." Du Maurier said bluntly, ending the moment that neither of them had actually realised that they'd been sharing together abruptly.

"Good." Hannibal finished (the conversation), chewing the next bite of the fancy steak that he had fixed for them slowly and then sipping the wine he had brought in the same manner. Slowly. They smiled. Sure their relationship was surely proffessional (at least on one end) but they could still smile at each other. Innocently smile. Making the smile as innocently as possible when their intentions by the smile were not quite as innocent.

Miss Bedelia took a slow, drawn out bite too, and they took turns like that (one slow bite after the last, taking turns) until broke the silence, "I hope you enjoyed your meal."

"I did. No need to be so polite ."

"No need to be so polite Miss Du Maurier." he (slightly but delicately) mocked.

"I'm at work."

"I repeat," he smiled, "No need." Bedelia bit her bottom lip though not not quite hard enough to draw blood. Hannibal lecter smiled, only showing the very edges of his teeth. He set down his fork and spoon and got up. He walked around the table until he was directly behind his psychiatrist/friend. She flinched (though only slightly), though it made Hannibal hesitate.

"Don't worry." he said, showing once more that strange smile that only showed the very edges of pearly whites.

"I cannot help but to , for i've seen what you can do. How dangerous you are." She also knew that in this position he could find more than 3 or 4 ways to kill her if he so much as wished for it to be done. One of those reasons was cracking her neck and one more that wasn't quite so likely (or easy) was persuasion and self guilt. He gave her an expression (seemingly forced onto the borderline of pity) to at least try to trust him. She tried to obey. He moved his hands slowly but skillfully to pull her hair from the her neck and over her shoulders making her slender back visible to the male psychiatrist. She stiffened, tensed, only slightly but enough for Hannibal Lecter to notice. He pulled his big (though far from clumsy) hands away. Miss Bedelia exhaled,

"Go ahead" was what the small sigh said and he put his hands back to their former positions, resting on MIss Du Maurier's elegant back. From there (on her back) he could feel her oh-so-slight breaths. In, out, in, out, in, and then back out again.

His hands trailed down her back, though not too far to avoid collision with the excellently made cherry chair. Goose-bumps covered the places where he touched.

He brought his hands back up and inched the thin straps of her white puffy tank top off of her slender shoulders. Her breathing hitched and she tried to not appear startled. The feels of his warm hands on her skin made her realise just how cold she really was. the difference between their body temperatures were startling.

He smiled from his place behind her fancy ,sliding his hand softly over her shoulders and down over the thin straps of her shirt to her elbows. He lay his hands to rest on the soft side of her forearms and leaned in,taking in her scent from behind her fancy french perfume. He liked it, it had the resemblance to a cherry tart. Sweet but packs a punch.

He once again adjusted his hand, higher up this time but smartly moved to stay away from the vulnerable scar down the length of her neck. She noticed his unwavering eyes in the area and bowed her head (only slightly), self conscious over that area. He lifted her head back to its old position was just one large hand, showing her neck fully. she stiffened but didn't fix it back. put one of his hands on the weak spot and raced a single finger over it. She tried to smile but couldn't force one out. She shuddered instead, though this time her patient didn't pull his hand back. She put her hand to her neck to bat him away but ended up just letting it rest on top of his.

Hannibal knew that they both wanted this and now Mis Bedelia du Maurier knew the same.

"I'm glad that you're enjoying yourself now." Hannibal Lecter said, smiling, using his thumb to rub the top of Miss Du Maurier's hand (the one which was placed daintily over her neck).

"U~hn stop it." Hannibal found the surprisingly loud moan that she had made satisfying and absolutely adorable, so he rubbed her neck again the same area in hopes to produce the same result again. It seemingly worked and another moan was caused. Now he knew why (him rubbing the tender scarred spot of her neck). Wary of her consciousness to the spot though, Hannibal didn't do the same again (though he very much wanted too).

He released Miss Du Maurier and went to go bring their dishes to the sink, smiling to himself. Bedelia liked this soft side of Hannibal. The one that was showing now, the soft side that was really real. He washed the remnants of the food off of their plates and set them on the counter , slowly and politely. He walked over to her and said

**"****See you next week.". That thick accent of his stayed in her head ,and she clutched desperately to it until then.**


	2. Chapter 2

Bedelia was looking forward to the next time Hannibal Lecter had an appointment more than she was happy to admit. It didn't have to be professional, she thought to herself though she knew it to be false, Hannibal liked being her patient and as long as he needed (or wanted) her she would be there. Professionality was still an important factor in Bedelia's life though (even if she didn't want her relationship to be), it took her mind off of 'other' things. She still sat in the same chair that Hannibal had left her sitting in, running her fingers and trying to fluff up her hair a bit.

She didn't know why she was still in the chair,she knew of no reason. Silly things like this shouldn't matter to her, the chair was just a place. A sitting spot of her 6-seater kitchen table. She got up, feeling herself emotional for being attached to the place where Hannibal had touched her so dearly. Her fingers trailed the chair as she walked away from it. She had nowhere to go so she wandered around aimlessly for a few minutes. First to her kitchen, then the bathroom to take a peek of herself in the mirror. Then off to her bedroom, realising she was tired and that her day had been much longer than usual (but still felt oh-too-short).

She wandered into her pajamas and slipped off her heels. She went back to the bathroom, grabbed a towel and tried to wash off the remnants of today's makeup. She quickly brushed her teeth and then went straight to her bed again, using one quick decisive moment to turn off the lights. She slept and thought about Hannibal. About how soft, how different he was. How she really liked...How she really _loved_ that.

-Week Later-

Even though it was well known that he would show up, Hannibal lecter would always stand by the front door, knock, and wait patiently for the door to be opened to him. In fact, knowing this, and knowing that she just could not wait until their next meeting, Bedelia Du Maurier sat on a kitchen chair which was moved to the side of the door so that she could open it faster. She had pushed ahead her whole 'getting ready schedule' to do this. Hannibal could tell too.

He entered, eying the moved kitchen chair and then passing it off. He walked and sat down on his psychiatrist nice couch. She sat across from him on a chair, not bothering to move the kitchen chair back. He eyed her wanting a return look, but Bedelia wanted a to tease so she restrained herself from it. Hannibal crossed his legs and peered over at her now, trying to see under her veil. Fine, she wouldn't return, he thought, knowing what he was going to do next. He motioned for her to come closer. At first she was reluctant, but then climbed over on the couch with him (as far away as possible). He smiled once again and lightly patted the spot beside himself, 'still closer' she could just hear him say in his thick accent (though it was only imaginary). She went over next to him turned to face him, he notepad the main object of her attention.

"Will Graham came by last night," he said, "He had news of the Chesapeake Ripper case.", smiled before continuing, noting the look Bedelia made while writing notes. It was sweet, her smile tipped up and her eyebrows tipped down. He set one warm hand on her thigh and awaited a remark or reaction of any kind. He received a stuck up 'hmph' and he smiled. Du Maurier's 'Hmphs' are cute. He moved his hand to her waist and tugged her lightly forwards,

"Why?" he asked, just a low coo. He knew what she meant,

"Because." he answered, an end not a beginning, "trust me." She'd heard those words before, though not spoken. He knew more certain this time that she could trust him but was still hesitant. She thought about it and scooted closer.

"He said that they've figured out that the Copycat is confusing and messing with the Rippers tracks and that they are only going on his (Will's) judgement. He says he isn't sure where to go next, which conclusion to jump to." he continued, moving one of his hands around Bedelia's waist, the touch making her feel warm. She shuddered, having awaited for this time so silently she had started to doubt that this time had even been real before. the touch brought all that back. He moved his hand to use it to lay her head down on his shoulder. She didn't struggle against it, in fact she welcomed it, becoming accustomed. Bedelia Du Maurier closed her eyes and took in everything, his smell, the sound of his breath, the fabric of his dress coat.

Hannibal did the same, the shudder she made when tugged her thighs and he hiked her legs up on top of himself, the soft groan she made to the touch of his hand re-wrapped around her body. He rubbed his thumb against her thigh, roughly but softly at the same time. Miss Du Maurier's face was flushed red. Hannibal still searched for a bigger reaction, the former not being quite enough to satisfy his 'hunger'. He struggled the woman up even further and his face groaned and sucked frantically at her neck, nipping delicately at the trailing scar on it. She cried out, though she had tried desperately to keep a professional manner about her. She collapsed and convulsed slightly as nipped and tugged and moaned and attacked her neck, holding back moans that Hannibal Lecter had no problem at all with letting loose at the moment. She pulled against the spot he was aiming, making the hair slip from the area and making it all the more vulnerable. Hannibal trailed his hand up and left one on the upper left of her back and the other on the back of her neck, rushing her forwards even more. he slipped down sleeves of her silky red shirt revealing the area of her chest down to the edge of her armpit. He easily pushed her back against the end of the couch, her head smacking against the armrest. He was on top of her holding himself up with one hand and pressing and touching sections of her back with the gentleness of a giant. Bedelia let a surge of struggle loose, to take over and Hannibal stopped, releasing her a bit, he looked at her and she shot forwards firing an array of forceful kisses into his mouth. He kissed back, and oh how he kissed back. When he kissed it overwhelmed her frenzied disoriented flutters in an instant. She decided that this was better than control, 'Miss Du Maurier wanted to be controlled' she thought to herself, hah. She released his forceful mouth and let herself fall back once more, a sign telling Hannibal it was ok to take over. That she _wanted_ him to take over.

He did and she let herself be ok with it. Hannibal Lecter stayed in his forceful kiss on her mouth and put both hands around her back, holding her. He pulled her as close as he could manage and untucked the ruffled edges of her red shirt. He slipped one hand up, and she squirmed. He just pulled her closer. He didn't move his hand any higher, he kept it low on her chest. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, and tipped it against hers. Her eyes grew wider but she didn't move, instead she kissed him back. She liked Hannibal's affections.

He pulled back, pushing away a few stray hairs that had found their way to her face. He roughly pushed them away and sat up. Bedelia followed him, it was over. He was done. They smiled at each other because they could always smile. Dr. Lecter checked the time,

**"****I've stayed over." was the time what he was worried about, or was it just an excuse? She didn't reply. She was still overwhelmed by him, his voice, his face, his entirety. She had no one else coming over so the time was of no concern. He grabbed her keys from the table where she had left them, smiled, and exited the house.**


End file.
